


Work Experience on Sodor 1

by steamandstardust



Series: Work Experience on Sodor [1]
Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends, Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 22:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17455445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamandstardust/pseuds/steamandstardust
Summary: Libby is less than pleased with her work placement at the railway on Sodor. But spending a day with Gordon quickly changes her mind.





	Work Experience on Sodor 1

I should have taken more time to arrange my work experience. But I hadn’t bothered, so here I was, being dropped off at the railway. It was the least appealing thing I could think of, getting filthy with grease and smoke helping out with steam engines.

“Here we are,” said the Fat Controller, “I have your first useful job to do.”

“Wonderful,” I said, barely bothering to hide my distaste.

I was shown into the engine shed, where a huge blue engine was waiting.

“This is Gordon,” said the Fat Controller, “and your job is to give him a good clean and polish.”

“Fizzling fireboxes!” Said Gordon in a plummy accent, “I can’t wait to have a good rub down.”

And with that I was left alone with a crate full of cleaning products and cloths, feeling rather uneasy about the fact that the vehicle had a face.

“This is very useful of you,” said Gordon, as I climbed hesitantly onto the step of his cab. I wasn’t entirely sure where to start, but I took a soft polishing cloth and began to rub down the shiny blue paintwork that I could reach.

“Am I doing this right?” I asked awkwardly.

“Oh yes, smoke and cinders, that feels spot on!”

“Um… good.”

Soon I had all the smooth paintwork that I could reach gleaming. I peered out around the shed and spotted a tall step ladder. Perfect! Feeling more confident, I unfolded the ladder and climbed carefully onto the top of the engine, one leg either side for balance as I cleaned sooty smudges off the funnel. I smiled to myself, perhaps this wasn’t so bad after all. It was quite satisfying really.

There was a low hissing sound, and than a crackle and splutter.

“Gordon!” I called, “what’s that noise?”

I felt the metal beneath me shudder and heave as if the engine had taken a deep breath. Which was impossible of course.

“Oh my,” Gordon replied, “my firebox, it appears to have…. ignited…”

“Is that normal?” I asked ignorantly.

“No.”

“Should I, uh, get someone?”

There was a pause as the air slowly began to grow warmer. Pressure was building as Gordon’s boiler began to heat, flames hungrily consuming the coal.

“No, don’t get anyone,” said the engine firmly, “you are doing a great job!”

“Well, thank you,” I blushed. My cheeks felt like they were burning.

“What should I clean next?”

“Come inside my cab. There is a lot of greasy brasswork that needs a good hard polish.”

“Alright.” I climbed back down and into the confines of the cab. There was an intricate array of levers, gauges and metalwork surrounding me, and of course the flaming firebox. The shovel was stood next to the coal and I wondered how it felt to stoke the powerful engine. Tentatively, I took a shovelful of black coal and fed the greedy flames.

“Ahh,” murmured Gordon, “I am really heating up now!”

I squeezed some of the thick brass polish into a fresh cloth and started to rub one of the many levers. The metalwork began to take on a brilliant lustre beneath my hands. There was a hiss of steam, or was it a sigh?

“Gordon,” I asked ,“am I right in thinking that you can feel what I’m doing?”

“That is correct.”

A wicked thought crossed my mind. There was no one else around and dusk was creeping in early outside the shed. I dipped my head and took another of the levers into my mouth, tracing the line of cold metal with my tongue. The fire flared up and Gordon whistled loudly.

“Oh you like that… do you?” I sucked harder, the metal slick between my lips. I could feel myself getting wet. The engine throbbed and rattled on the rails, as I pressed the lever down my throat.

“Oh my,” whistled Gordon.

“I want you…” I murmured, “is there a way?”

“The brake lever… should work.”

I rounded on the polished lever, hurriedly pulling off my trousers, pushing my knickers aside and sliding gratefully onto the cold metal.

Gordon screeched shrilly as I rode the lever, my legs shaking uncontrollably as I neared climax, my fingers clutching the smooth metal dials. I came, panting, suddenly aware of my surroundings again. The door of the engine shed began to creak open and I hurriedly dropped to the floor of the cab, scrambling to pull on my trousers.

Gordon’s face was flushed as the Fat Controller strode over.

“You look splendid Gordon,” he said, eyeing up the polished paintwork.

I pulled my shoe on and smoothed my hair, before grabbing a cloth and making a show of looking up from polishing something low down.

“There you are!” Called the Fat Controller. “You have been very useful indeed. Shall we say the same time tomorrow?”

I patted the inside of the cab, and I could have sworn I heard the steam engine purr.

“Yes, same time tomorrow,” I said


End file.
